You've Got Mail
by ishippedsohardisunk
Summary: Marinette Dupain-Cheng works for a small fashion house that Adrien Agreste is trying to run out of business for his father's fashion empire. Little do they know, they are also email friends Ladybug and Chat Noir. Shenanigans ensue. (Literally just a Miraculous Ladybug AU of one of my favorite movies, You've Got Mail.)
1. Chapter 1

Marinette Dupain-Cheng sighed and tapped her pencil impatiently on the desk. Her mind was completely, entirely blank. There was no way she'd be able to come up with a new design for Masson Fashion House's fall line at this rate. She glanced longingly at her computer. Oh fine, she'd check her messages one more time before getting back to work. She wouldn't be able to concentrate until she had talked to him anyway.

The familiar screech of the computer dialing up brought a smile to the raven-haired woman's face. She eagerly logged in and squealed in delight when she saw the notification: You've Got Mail.

 _Message from chatnoirxx_

 _Subject: Plagg_

 _Plagg is my cat. He's possibly the most ridiculous cat in existence, as his favorite thing in the world is camembert even though he nearly died once from sneaking a whole wheel from the hors d'oeuvres at a party my father was hosting. He wasn't happy when Plagg began projectile vomiting all over the guests and I had to rush him to the emergency vet clinic at 10 PM. Once I got over the terror of losing him, it was one of the funniest things I've ever seen. I wish I'd gotten a picture of my father's face! Aside from eating toxic cheese, Plagg also enjoys sitting on whatever I'm working on, sleeping on my head whenever I lie down, and generally being obnoxious. But he's one of my best friends and I wouldn't trade him for anything._

Marinette giggled as she tried to imagine her chat friend with a cat on his face. She felt better immediately and fired back a message before getting back to work. Staring at the blank page in front of her she was struck with sudden inspiration. Cats. Silently thanking Chat Noir, she began sketching furiously.

Adrien Agreste had just left another boring business meeting in his father's office and couldn't wait to get to his computer and see if there were any new messages from Ladybug. He slumped in his favorite desk chair and discreetly checked to see if the coast was clear before firing it up. His bright green eyes lit up even more than usual when he saw he had a message from his Lady.

 _Message from ladybug32_

 _Subject: Butterfly_

 _You know those stories about butterflies on the metro? Today I saw it happen! It got on near Notre Dame and off near the Eiffel Tower and I wondered how many tourists' pictures it would fly through the back of, unnoticed. Here's a question: how many times do you think you've seen the same butterfly? Or the same pigeon? The thought keeps me awake sometimes._

Adrien grinned. Ladybug had the most interesting observations. She wasn't like anyone he had ever met. Well, not that he'd ever _really_ met her. They had met in a chat room three months ago and had kept up a regular correspondence ever since. He never mentioned this use of the internet to his father, knowing he wouldn't approve. He would think Ladybug just wanted an in with the heir to the Agreste fashion label. Adrien knew that wasn't true, since he and Ladybug had no idea of each other's real names and didn't share personal identifying details, but his father had never been one to listen to reason.

He was able to be himself over email in a way he couldn't in person. Adrien Agreste knew his responsibilities and had a reputation to uphold. Chat Noir did not. His father always made it seem like nobody would like the real him, but Ladybug liked him just fine. Sometimes he wondered if there might be more. If they'd meet…date…get married…He snapped himself out of it. He had work to do.

The whole point of the meeting he'd just come from was to get Masson Fashion House to fold. It was a small house, yet had somehow snapped up one of the most promising design students straight out of fashion school. Gabriel Agreste perceived Masson's head designer, Marinette Dupain-Cheng, to be a threat. He wanted her to work for Agreste. When Gabriel wanted something, he got it.

Adrien rubbed his forehead in agitation. He wasn't a huge fan of his father's plan—make a bunch of people lose their jobs just so he could get what he wanted?—but his father was insistent. Apparently Dupain-Cheng had already turned down the chance to work for Agreste because her old mentor, Tikki Masson, owned the rival fashion house. His father was ruthless and Adrien's protests were ignored. So now he had to come up with a plan to put Masson out of business.

He sent Ladybug a quick email back and wondered what made this Marinette Dupain-Cheng so great that his father was willing to go to such lengths. Gabriel Agreste, fashion mogul, was not a patient man.


	2. Chapter 2

Marinette grinned to herself at Chat Noir's latest email.

 _Message from: chatnoirxx_

 _Subject: Puns_

 _When I was a kid I watched a lot of anime. I can't remember which show it was, but somebody broke their arm and their friend deadpanned, "Well isn't this humerus" on the way to the hospital. I cracked up so hard I hit my head on the wall behind the couch. My mom rushed into the room and asked if I was okay and I replied something like, "Wall, it could've been worse." I've been a hopeless punster ever since. There it is. My origin story._

Origin story. Like he was some sort of superhero. Chat Noir had a strange sense of humor but it always made Marinette's day. She sighed. She needed the lightheartedness. Her boss and mentor, Tikki, had been stressing about the rumors of Gabriel Agreste wanting to steal her away all day.

"You're our main source of revenue, Marinette," Tikki fretted. "We'd go under for sure without you. Your talent is unique."

Marinette gave her a soft smile. "Do you really think I'm going anywhere after all you've done for me?"

Tikki looked doubtful. "They'd be able to pay you a lot better."

"Like I care about that," Marinette scoffed. "I care about making a difference in the fashion world and helping out an old friend. This was your mother's business, I know how much it means to you."

"You're an angel, Marinette," Tikki said sweetly, giving her friend a hug.

Marinette waved off the compliment with a laugh and headed outside into the rain, ramming straight into a tall, blonde man. She bounced off him onto the slick sidewalk with an "oof."

"I am so sorry, I'm terribly clumsy," she apologized before looking into his face and gasping. He had the most gorgeous green eyes she had ever seen.

"Don't worry about it," the man said with a smile, offering a hand to help her up. "Where are you headed? To make up for kind of knocking you over, I'll share my umbrella."

Marinette's cheeks pinked. "A-are you sure? I mean, it doesn't look very big and I wouldn't want you to get wet."

He shrugged. "It should fit both of us. Unless you don't want to."

"Oh no, you're very kind, of course I want to," Marinette babbled. "Thanks."

The man smiled and repeated himself. "Where are you headed?"

"Oh!" Marinette blushed deeper. "I was going to go get some pastries from my parents' bakery. It's about two blocks that way."

"What a coincidence, that's exactly the direction I'm headed," the man grinned. "I never caught your name."

"Marinette."

"Interesting name," the man smiled. "Must be more common that I thought. I've been hearing it everywhere lately."

"Really?" She was intrigued. She'd never met another Marinette before.

"Yeah, it isn't one I'd forget," the man said with a chuckle.

If Marinette's face was pink before, now it was tomato red. "Thanks?"

The man laughed at her confusion. "You're welcome."

They walked in companionable silence until they approached the bakery. "This is me," Marinette said with a smile. "Thanks for sharing."

"No prob—" the man looked up at the awning on the bakery in horror. "You're Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

She frowned. "Yes, is that relevant?"

"Uh, no," the man said nervously. "Not at all."

He started scurrying further down the street. Marinette called out to him. "Wait! I didn't even catch your name!"

"Adrien!" the man hollered behind him as he hurried away.

Marinette stared after him in confusion but brushed off the strange encounter once she was enveloped in the bakery's sugary warmth.

"Marinette!" her mother cried happily. "How nice to see you! Did you come by for lunch?"

She nodded. "The café across the street from work is atrocious. I'd rather walk in the rain to have a proper lunch."

Sabine Cheng smiled at her daughter. "That's my girl. Go on back, your father's in the kitchen."

"Thanks Maman!"

Tom Dupain turned at the sound of his daughter's voice. "Well look who dropped by! It's good to see you, sweetheart," he boomed as he crushed Marinette in a hug.

"Papa!" she protested, laughing. "Put me down!"

He shrugged and set the diminutive young woman down. "Tell me, what's new in your life?"

"You mean from when I saw you two days ago?" Marinette teased. "Let's see, Tikki's stressed about the Agreste label trying to steal me away and Nino's been clocking so much time in the music studio I hardly ever see him. Just like two days ago."

Her father held his hands up in surrender. "Alright, alright, I see your point. You should invite Nino for dinner one of these days. We haven't seen him in ages. Aren't you two getting more serious?"

Marinette hedged. She wasn't sure. Nino was hardly around anymore and she felt such a connection with Chat Noir, without even knowing who he was. Was it cheating, talking to a man on the internet? The thought hadn't occurred to her before. The internet being used for communication was still so new in Paris. What were the boundaries between the online world and the real one? "Maybe? Like I said, I've hardly seen him lately."

"Well, he's a very nice young man. A good match for you," her father concluded.

She smiled. "I'm glad you think so, Papa."

Her lunch hour was nearing its end so Marinette kissed both of her parents and headed back into the rain. She was greeted by Tikki the moment she stepped in the door.

"Marinette, I nearly forgot! The spring show next weekend, I need you to be there on my behalf."

Her eyes widened in shock. "What? No, no, no, Tikki, _you're_ the head of the brand, I can't!"

"I have a family emergency and have to go out of town," she said ruefully. "Tonight. I won't be back for several weeks. I need you to man the fort while I'm gone."

Panic seized in Marinette's chest. "I can't handle that kind of responsibility. Please, what about Nathanael, or Mylene? Both of them are more experienced in management than me! I'm just a designer!"

"The head designer," Tikki corrected. "You're vital to our operation, even if Nathanael handles the finances and Mylene the marketing. I've chosen you and that's final. I'll see you in a few weeks."

"I—but—you—agh—" Marinette sputtered in protest but her boss was gone.

Her redheaded coworker popped up from around the corner. "So she railroaded you into being the head representative in her place, huh?"

"Nathanael," she moaned, face in her hands. "How am I going to do this?"

"Simple, you're going to tell Gabriel Agreste what's what. He'd probably take it better from you than Tikki anyway, since you're the one he's after," Nathanael said with a shrug. "Bring your boyfriend for moral support. He'll have your back, won't he?"

"Yes," Marinette said, warming to the idea. Nino knew how much Masson meant to her. She'd complained to him about Agreste as soon as the harassment began. He'd back her up. "Maybe I can do this after all."

"That's the spirit!" Nathanael winked. "Now if you'll excuse me, I think that faint yell in the distance is for me."

Marinette laughed. Mylene never got up from her desk when she wanted someone. She just hollered and hoped they would hear it.

"I can do it," the young designer told herself. "I can totally do it."


	3. Chapter 3

_Message from: ladybug23_

 _Subject: The Little Engine That Could_

 _Did you ever read that American storybook_ The Little Engine That Could? _I've been chanting "I think I can, I think I can, I think I can" to myself all week. The only thing that's been keeping me sane is our messages. I like to start my notes to you as if we're already in the middle of a conversation. I pretend that we're the oldest and dearest friends –as opposed to what we actually are, people who don't know each other's names and met in a chat room where we both claimed we'd never been before. What will he say today, I wonder. I turn on my computer, I wait impatiently as it boots up._ _I go online, and my breath catches in my chest until I hear three little words: You've got mail. I hear nothing, not even a sound on the streets of Paris, just the beat of my own heart. I have mail. From you._

Adrien sighed. What kind of week was Ladybug having that she was resorting to quoting a children's book to herself? He perked up at the idea that their emails meant something to her—maybe even as much as they meant to him. He frequently felt the same way. Her emails were what he looked forward to waking up in the morning. This was a problem considering he woke up next to another woman.

"Adrikins!" Chloe's shrill voice broke through his reverie. Think of the devil.

"Hey, Chlo."

"You would not be _lieve_ what happened today," she huffed. "It was horrible. This super pushy salesgirl at my favorite boutique—"

Adrien effectively tuned her out, as he learned to do in the early days of their relationship, nodding in all the right places until she was done.

"That's terrible, Chloe," he said insincerely as he sensed the rant was winding down. "How about I take you to lunch to get your mind off things?"

"Okay," she agreed cheerfully, latching onto his arm. "Let's go."

Lunch was a standard affair: fancy food and hardly getting a word in edgewise. Adrien was used to it. Chloe peppered him with goodbye kisses before he headed back to work. He'd proposed his plan to drive Masson out of business to his father earlier that morning. It was devious—far too devious for his tastes; Chloe and his friend Kim had come up with most of it—and as predicted his father approved.

"Excellent work, Adrien," his father handed out the rare praise. "I expect you to begin stage one before the spring show."

"Thank you father, of course," he said and bowed himself out miserably.

Praise was good. Ruining people's livelihoods…not so much. Stage one included advertising using similar wording to Masson's, but not close enough to sue. Just enough to steal their thunder. Legal had worked with the advertising team to come up with ads going all over Paris and in the smaller magazines Masson was usually featured in. It would probably be highly successful. That didn't mean Adrien had to like it.

He kicked at the ground as he walked past the Dupain-Cheng bakery. All of this could have been avoided if Marinette Dupain-Cheng had just taken his father's offer. She would have a better salary, benefits, and fame and the rest of Masson would be left alone. Why did she have to be so stubborn? Adrien almost hated her for making him put people out of their jobs. His father would say it was just business, but was it?


	4. Chapter 4

"You've got this, babe," Nino whispered to Marinette.

She nodded. The show had gone off without a hitch. Agreste had more designs displayed than Masson, obviously, it was a bigger label, but there weren't any unforeseen complications. Everyone Marinette had talked to complemented her on her ingenuity. She talked to a lot of people. It was a bit overwhelming.

She thought she saw a familiar blonde head over by the caviar. "Adrien?"

The head in question whipped around at the sound of his name then, clearly panicked, tried to move in the opposite direction only to meet a wall of people.

Marinette and Nino walked over to him and she smiled. "I thought that was you! What are you doing here?"

"Um…" Adrien balked.

"Oh my gosh!" the blonde woman glued to Adrien's side squealed. "You're that DJ from the radio, you know everyone worth knowing in the music world!"

Nino was taken slightly aback. "Yeah, that's me."

"Chloe Bourgeois," the blonde introduced. "Come, you simply must tell me about Jagged Stone and Mr. XY."

Nino silently called out to Marinette for help as Chloe dragged him away but she was distracted by someone coming up to Adrien.

"Mr. Agreste! Your father's spring collection was impeccable, as always. I must find him to congratulate him."

"Agreste," Marinette said flatly. "You're _Adrien Agreste._ "

"I never said I wasn't," he said sheepishly. "To be fair, I didn't know who you were until we approached your parents' bakery. I live nearby. Great pastries."

"I can't believe you!" Marinette fumed. "Pretending to be all nice to me with that umbrella then stabbing me in the back. You think I haven't seen those ads? I'd sue but I already talked to the legal department—" really just Nathanael, but he didn't need to know that "—and there's nothing we can do. Sure, we did well in this show but our advertising is kaput and the boss is out of town on emergency and oooooh!" She was too incensed to speak.

"None of this would have happened if you had just taken my father's offer," Adrien countered. "But oh no, the high and mighty Marinette Dupain-Cheng had to be all hipster and work in an obscure, unimportant fashion house out of spite. Now the whole business is going to go under and it will be _your fault._ "

Marinette gasped. "How dare you!"

"How dare I?" Adrien laughed sardonically. "Yeah. How dare I do my job. How dare you put your own preferences above all the people you work with. Just wait. See how happy you are when Masson collapses and you come crawling back to Agreste but everyone else is out of a job." He took another swig of his drink.

Chloe's voice burst back into the conversation. "Nino was just telling me the most lovely story about Jagged Stone's crocodile and some bad room service. He knows the most fascinating things."

Nino flushed. "Hey Marinette, are you ready to leave?" _Because I am_ was unspoken but Marinette understood.

"I was ready a while ago," she sniffed and with her head held high, strode away from that snobby Adrien Agreste. What did he know? He didn't know anything about her. He didn't know anything about Masson! They weren't really in danger, right?

She refused to back down. On the taxi ride home, she detailed her plan to fire back to Nino, who was perfectly willing to go along with it. Well, at least she had that under control. No way would Marinette ever forgive herself if everything was in tatters when Tikki came back.

Once home she slumped in her chair and waited for the computer to dial up. Thankfully, there was a message from Chat Noir.

 _Do you ever feel you become the worst version of yourself? That a Pandora's Box of all the secret hateful parts—your arrogance, your spite, your condescension—has sprung open. Someone provokes you, and instead of just smiling and moving on, you zing them. Hello, it's Mr. Nasty. I'm sure you have no idea what I'm talking about._

She sighed before responding.

 _I know what you mean and I'm completely jealous. What happens to me when I'm provoked is that I get tongue-tied. My mind goes blank. Then I spend all night tossing and turning trying to think of what I should have said._

Marinette shut off her computer and went to bed. The next morning she yawned, rumpled her hair, and booted up her computer.

 _Message from: chatnoirxx_

 _Re: Advice_

 _Wouldn't it be wonderful if I could pass all my zingers to you and then I would never behave badly and you could behave badly all the time and we'd both be happy? On the other hand, I must warn you that when you finally have the pleasure of saying the thing you mean to say at the moment you mean to say it, remorse inevitably follows. Do you think we should meet?_

That woke Marinette up completely. Meet? Meet?! Her hands flailed around her face as she panicked. That could be terrible. What if she didn't meet his expectations? What if he didn't meet hers? What if they hated each other? _What about Nino?_ She needed advice. Who to talk to? Not her parents. They didn't know about her internet activities. Nathanael? Mylene? Mylene might get it.

As soon as Marinette got to work she approached Mylene. "Um, remember when I asked you if talking to someone on the internet was cheating and you said no?"

She looked at the flustered designer skeptically. "What happened?"

"Um…ChatNoirwantstomeetandI'mtotallyfreakingoutwhatdoIdo."

"A little slower," Mylene encouraged.

Marinette took a deep breath and repeated herself. "Chat Noir wants to meet and I'm totally freaking out, what do I do?"

Mylene's eyes nearly bugged out of her head. "He wants to meet? When!"

"I got the message this morning," Marinette said desperately. "I never go more than a few hours without answering him during the day. What do I say?"

"Meet him!" Mylene encouraged. "Come on, you've been more dreamy about this guy than you've ever been about Nino."

"There's nothing wrong with Nino," Marinette said defensively.

"Yeah, but you and this guy seem to really have a spark. I think it's worth a shot."

Marinette wavered. "If you think so. I'm going to go work on my new designs. It's only a couple months until the fall designs need to be finalized and I'm spearheading the project."

"Good luck," Mylene said cheerily.

Marinette sketched, scribbled out, tore, and started over multiple times in the next few hours until she finally needed a break. She busted out her computer and bit her lip. She was going to do it.

 _I need help. Do you still want to meet me?_

The message was sent. It was too late to back out now. Freaking out a little, Marinette tried to get back to work. She still had a lot of designs to finish.

After closing up shop for the day, waving goodbye to Nathanael and Mylene, Marinette cursed the slow dial-up, anxiously awaiting Chat Noir's response.

 _Message from: chatnoirxx_

 _Re: Advice_

 _Where? When?_


	5. Chapter 5

"You're meeting your mystery email girl?" Kim asked incredulously.

"Shh!" Adrien implored. "Not so loud, my father might hear you."

"Dude, this is a big deal."

"I know," Adrien moaned. "Why did I suggest this, I've been freaking out ever since."

Kim shook his head in disbelief at his friend. "How are you going to know it's her?"

Adrien smiled a little dreamily. "She's going to be wearing a red dress with black polka dots. Because her screen name is Ladybug."

"What if she's hideous?" Kim dared to ask.

"She can't be," Adrien insisted. A thought hit him. "Oh no, what if she has a nails-on-a-blackboard voice. I can't deal with that. I get enough of that from Chloe. I'm not going to stay long. Just a quick cup of coffee, in and out. Why am I compelled to meet her? I'm ruining a good thing."

Kim pondered this a moment. "You're taking it to the next level. I always do that. I always take a relationship to the next level, and if it works okay I take it to the next level after that, until I can finally get to the level where it becomes absolutely necessary for me to leave."

Adrien groaned again, burying his head in his hands. "I'm not going to stay long anyway. Ugh, I already said that, didn't I? I'm a wreck."

They traveled further down the block until they reached the coffee shop they agreed to meet at. "Kim, this woman is the most adorable creature I have ever come in contact with. If she turns out to be even as good-looking as a mailbox, I will be crazy not to turn my life upside down and marry her."

"Whoa, man," Kim said nervously. "You don't even know what she looks like."

"You go look," Adrien insisted.

"Me?"

"Just go to the window and check her out."

Kim shook his head. "You're pathetic." He peeked in the window.

"Do you see her?" Adrien asked hopefully.

"I see a girl, very beautiful, red dress…but no polka dots. Hang on." Kim peered into the window a little longer. "Ah! There she is."

"What does she look like?"

"There's a waiter blocking, I can't see her face. He's serving her a cup of tea and she's putting in three spoonfuls of sugar—" Kim was cut off.

"Well, why shouldn't she?" Adrien was pacing. He'd never been this nervous in his life.

"No reason. Unless she's hypoglycemic," Kim reasoned.

"Can you see her?"

"Yes."

"And?" Adrien demanded. He couldn't handle the suspense.

"Uhhh," Kim was clearly flustered. "She's very pretty."

Adrien did a small victory dance. "I knew she'd be! I knew it. She had to be."

"She looks…" Kim faltered. "She has the coloring of that Marinette Dupain-Cheng person."

Adrien stopped dead in his tracks. "Marinette Dupain-Cheng. The Masson designer."

"Why not?" Kim shrugged. "You said she was attractive."

"So what? Who cares about Marinette Dupain-Cheng?"

"Well, if you don't like Marinette Dupain-Cheng, I can tell you right now, you're not going to like this girl."

"Why not?" Adrien asked, flustered.

"Because it _is_ Marinette Dupain-Cheng."

"Oh no." A thousand thoughts swirled in Adrien's head. Ladybug—his Ladybug, who he would give up almost anything to know—was the pain in his professional butt.

"What are you going to do?" Kim asked.

"I—" Adrien stopped. He didn't know what to do. But he wasn't about to go in there and introduce himself as Chat Noir, his true self, to a woman who made his life so much harder. Stage two of the campaign against Masson had been launched and Marinette had _fought back._ She had been fighting back since after the spring show. Publicly. Her DJ boyfriend had gotten her on the radio. No one fought back against Agreste. The publicity had been horrible. She had claimed she was being blackmailed. Blackmailed! Agreste's lawyers were still trying to figure out how to strike back. "I'm going home."

"You're just going to leave her there?" Kim asked incredulously. "Come on man, you're better than that."

Adrien continued walking away, disbelieving this whole thing.

"But she wrote the letters!" Kim protested.

"Goodnight Kim," Adrien said firmly. "I'll see you tomorrow."


	6. Chapter 6

Marinette had been sitting at the table for a while, hopefully eyeing any man who came in the door. After the third consecutive let down she was beginning to lose hope. Someone from the rowdy table nearby tried to take the chair across from her.

"No please!" she burst out. "I'm waiting for someone. They're probably almost here."

The guy shrugged and went back to his table. Marinette fidgeted nervously with the hem of her dress. She had worked so hard on it, making it especially for this meet up over the past week. Any moment she wasn't working on firing back at Agreste for trying to bring down Masson she was busy with the dress. Nino thought it was for a costume party coming up and Marinette felt guilty deceiving him.

Well, if this worked out they'd be done anyway. If it didn't, then everything could go back to the way it was. At least, that's what she tried telling herself.

The bell on the door chimed again and Marinette looked up hopefully only to be met with disgust. Adrien Agreste. What was he doing here?

"Marinette Dupain-Cheng," he said flatly, pulling up the spare chair. "Hello. What a coincidence. Mind if I sit down?"

Marinette's fidgeting grew worse. What if Chat Noir showed up and saw Adrien sitting with her? That wouldn't do. "Yes, actually, I'm expecting someone."

"Ladybug themed dress, huh?" He said shrewedly, eyeing her. "I bet you think it's good luck. I bet you spent a whole week making it to impress whoever you're waiting for."

Marinette bit her lip uncomfortably. She had emailed Chat saying how excited she was about her dress. How had Adrien pegged that? "Would you please leave?" Her bluebell eyes kept darting to the door. Ooh, where was he?

"I'll get up as soon as your friend comes," Adrien said with a smirk. "Is he late?"

"Yes, I made this dress. I spent a lot of time and effort on it because I, unlike you, actually enjoy fashion instead of just doing whatever Daddy tells me," Marinette spat.

"As a matter of fact, I do enjoy fashion," Adrien claimed.

"Well, good for you."

"I think you'd discover a lot of things if you really knew me."

Marinette's anger finally bubbled over. Adrien was ruining everything. Now she'd never get to meet Chat Noir. "If I really knew you, I know what I'd find. Instead of a brain, a cash register, instead of a heart, a bottom line." Her eyes widened when she finished her rant.

"What is it?" Adrien asked, surprised.

"I just had a breakthrough, and I have to thank you for it. For the first time in my life, when confronted with a horrible, insensitive person I actually knew what I wanted to say and I said it," Marinette said, still shocked at herself.

"I think you have a gift for it," Adrien shot back. "It was a perfect blend of poetry and meanness."

"Meanness?" Marinette protested. "Let me tell you about meanness—"

Adrien cut her off. "Don't misunderstand me, I'm just paying you a compliment."

"Why are you doing this?" Marinette asked, tears in her eyes. This night had not gone at all like she wanted.

"Everything's a joke to you, isn't it?" Adrien demanded, gesturing to her dress.

"Please leave. I beg you." Marinette's voice shook.

Adrien got up, walked over to the next table, and sat with his back to her. The door chimed again and she looked up hopefully but it was a couple of middle-aged women with umbrellas, damp from the rain. She noticeably drooped. He wasn't coming, was he?

"You know what those umbrellas remind me of?" Adrien asked, not looking at her. "The first day we met."  
"The first day you lied," Marinette said bitterly.

"I didn't lie to you—"

"You did too—"

"I did not!"

"I thought you being flustered was so charming. Like you thought I was cute and didn't know what to say to me," Marinette scoffed. "Really you just didn't want me to know you were out to get me. You never would have offered to share your umbrella if you'd known who I was!"

"I never lied about it!"

"Not telling me your name until you were practically sprinting in the other direction? Like Cinderella?"

"I am _NOT_ Cinderella."

The door opens and a very flamboyantly dressed man walks in with a feather boa.

"I am going to take a wild guess that this isn't him, either. Who is he, I wonder. Not, I gather, the most famous radio DJ in all of Paris, but someone else entirely. Will you be you be mean to him too? Will you start out sweet as sugar candy and then suddenly, miraculously, like a bolt from the blue, find that sharp little tongue of yours?" Adrien says scornfully.

Marinette stuck out her chin. "No, I won't. Because the man who's coming here tonight is completely unlike you. The man who is coming here is kind and funny—he has the most wonderful sense of humor, puns and all—"

"But he's not here."

Marinette was truly in danger of crying now and her anger flared again. "If he's not here, he has a reason, because there is not a cruel or careless bone in his body. I can't expect you to know anything about a person like that. You're nothing but a suit."

Adrien looked down at his suit, designed by his father, and said stiffly. "That is my cue. Goodnight."

Finally, _finally,_ he strode out the door. Marinette felt a little sick but continued to wait for Chat Noir. Two hours and nothing. Four total. He wasn't coming. When Marinette got home she ripped the dress off her and threw it in the trash, flopping onto her bed and finally letting her emotions out and crying until she fell asleep.


	7. Chapter 7

"What happened?" Mylene asked excitedly when Marinette walked in the door, halting when she saw the look on her friend's face.

"He never came."

"He stood you up?" Mylene was appalled.

"I think something happened, something terrible and unexpected that made it impossible for him—" Marinette was cut off by Nathanael's entrance.

"What happened?"

"He wasn't able to make it," Marinette explained.

"He stood you up?" Nathanael's jaw dropped. Mylene had filled him in on the situation the day before while Marinette was drowning in sketching paper.

"What could have happened?" Marinette wailed. "Why didn't he come? What if he showed up, took one look at me, and left?"

"Not possible," Mylene said loyally.

"Maybe there was a metro accident?" Marinette posed the question hopefully, trying to think of a valid reason her friend would have betrayed her like that.

"Absolutely," Mylene encouraged.

"A train was trapped with him inside," Marinette began.

"And no phone," Mylene added.

"Or a car accident. Those cab drivers are maniacs these days," Marinette said.

"They hit something and you slam right into that plastic partition," Mylene agreed.

"His elbows could be in splints so he can't really dial."

"Or he could be in the hospital in one of those semi-private rooms with—"

"No phone," they finished together.

Nathanael was looking oddly pensive, holding up a newspaper. He held it out to them. The headline read COPS NAB HAWK MOTH.

"What are you saying?" Marinette asked.

"It could be," Nathanael said quietly. A pause. "He was arrested two blocks from your parents' bakery."

"Is there a picture?" Mylene demanded. There was, a grainy shot of a man with a jacket over his head. "So that explains it."

"He was in jail," Nathanael said, wide-eyed.

"And there was a phone—"

"—but he had to use it to call his lawyer!" Nathanael exclaimed.

"You're so lucky," Mylene said in a hushed voice.

"You could be dead," Nathanael echoed.

"Are you crazy?" Marinette demanded. "Chat Noir couldn't possibly be Hawk Moth."

"How long did you sit there all alone?" Mylene asked gently.

"Not that long," Marinette lied. "Adrien Agreste came in—"

"Adrien Agreste!"

"I don't want to talk about it," Marinette said, rubbing her eyes. "Let's get to work." There was still much to be done in the fight against Agreste. Nathanael's cousin was a lawyer and he was their legal advisor in this matter. Tikki, unfortunately, was still out of the country for her family emergency. No one knew when she'd be back. If everything fell apart under Marinette's leadership…

Marinette dialed up her computer. Even if there were no new messages, she wanted to talk to Chat Noir so badly it hurt. To find out why he stood her up. She needed some sort of explanation. She desperately typed out the email, hit send, and laid her head on her arms in defeat.


	8. Chapter 8

Adrien wasn't sure why he even bothered checking his email. He was completely done with Marinette Dupain-Cheng, Ladybug or not. Yet here he was, after midnight, checking his email as Chloe was passed out on the couch.

 _Message from: ladybug32_

 _Subject: Where Were You?_

 _I have been thinking about you. Last night I went to meet you and you weren't there. I wish I knew why. I felt so foolish._ _And as I waited, someone else showed up, a man who has made my professional life a misery, and an amazing thing happened—I was able, for the first time in my life, to say the exact thing I wanted to say exactly when I wanted to say it. And of course, afterwards, I felt terrible. Just as you said I would._

 _I was cruel, and I'm never cruel. And even though I can hardly believe what I said mattered to this man—to him, I'm just a bug to be crushed—but what if it did? No matter what he's done to me, there's no excuse for my behavior. Anyway, you are my dear friend, and I so wanted to talk to you. I hope you have a good reason for not being there last night, but if you don't, and if we never really connect again, I just want to tell you how much it has meant to me to know you were there._

Way to stick it to him with guilt. Adrien's heart felt heavy. I mean, everyone makes mistakes. He certainly did by going in there last night with the intention to antagonize her. And here she was, apologizing to him, without even knowing it. His resolve was firm. He was going to explain why he wasn't there last night so that they could stay friends. He wasn't willing to lose his Lady so easily.

He tried typing up a bunch of excuses, he was out of the country, he had a meeting, he lost his phone, the electricity went out and he was trapped in his family's mansion because of the security gate…no, that wouldn't work, no personal information.

He tried again. _Dear Ladybug: I cannot tell you what happened to me last night, but I beg you from the bottom of my heart to forgive me for not being there—_ No, he wouldn't lie completely. He was definitely there. He deleted that line and tried again— _for what happened. I feel terrible that you found yourself in a situation that caused you additional pain. But I'm absolutely sure that whatever you said last night was provoked, even deserved. And everyone says things they regret when they're worried or stressed. You were expecting to see someone you trusted and met the enemy instead. The fault is mine. Someday I'll explain everything. Meanwhile, I'm still here. Talk to me._

That'll work. With a sigh, he shut off the computer and snuggled into bed with a purring Plagg.

"Did he say anything about meeting again?" Mylene asked.

Marinette slumped her shoulders. "Not really. It doesn't matter. We'll be just like George Bernard Shaw and Mrs. Patrick Campbell and write letters our whole lives."

They walked into work and saw that Tikki was back.

"Tikki!" they both cried and went to embrace their haggard-looking boss.

"Hello," she said wearily. "Nice to see you held down the fort."

Marinette tried to explain. "We did our best, we tried fighting back, Nathanael's cousin—"

Tikki cut her off with a wave of her hand. "I understand. It's time to give in. We're shutting down."

"What?" Marinette cried. "After all that hard work? You only just got back, maybe you don't understand fully what's going on."

"I know a losing battle when I see one, Marinette," Tikki said firmly. "You're the only designer we have left. Look at this place. In the three weeks I've been gone, I'm down to that many employees. A designer, a bookkeeper, and a receptionist."

They looked around. They hadn't realized how many people had left after the ad campaign that hit its peak right after the spring show.

"What are we going to do?" Nathanael asked dejectedly. He had spent most of college as a starving artist before changing his major to finance.

"Financiers are always in demand," Mylene said gently, placing a hand on his arm. "I'll be fine too. My papa is an actor who is on his third tour of a famous play. He'll help me out until I can find something else."

"What about you, Marinette?" Tikki asked. "What will you do?"

Marinette wanted to cry. "I don't really have a choice, do I? Anywhere else I go, Gabriel Agreste will come after me and the people I work with. I'm so sorry," she finally broke down sobbing. "Adrien told me this would happen and he was right! I did this!"

"No," Mylene said soothingly, wrapping her friend in a hug. "Of course you didn't. Those rotten people at Agreste did. This wasn't your fault at all."

"But if I'd just gone to him in the beginning," Marinette cried.

"We would've folded anyway," Tikki said wryly. "You were our only claim to fame."

Marinette left work only slightly comforted. She ran into Nino on her way home. "The gig is up. You don't need to put a plug in for us when you go on The Scoop with Alya Cesaire tomorrow." Nino was already going to be interviewed by the reporter for his music and the plan was to have him talk about the injustice of what Agreste was doing to Masson but that was pointless now. "Tikki folded."

"What?" Nino protested. "Nah, man, that's not cool. You had a fighting chance."

"She's the boss," Marinette said dully.

"I know just the thing to cheer you up," Nino said. "Ice cream. My treat."

Marinette gave him a weak smile. She did love ice cream. And aside from the spring gala and going to lunch once, they hadn't seen much of each other as Nino had prepared for his first ever TV interview. He had already been in contact with Alya to coordinate some things and he said she was more down-to-earth than expected for a TV personality.

So she let her boyfriend take her hand and get ice cream.

A week after the interview and aside from watching the recording with him on television, Marinette hadn't seen Nino at all. She hadn't heard from Chat Noir either. Tikki had officially closed down shop though so Marinette was headed to work for Agreste, as Adrien predicted all those weeks ago. Had it really been that long?

"Marinette?" Nino said hesitantly. "I…I have to tell you something."

"What is it?"

"You know, we haven't really spent much time together the past few months, and I mean it's not really either of our faults, we've both been so busy with work, but I…I don't love you," he admitted, looking away.

"I don't love you either."

"Seriously?" Nino asked, sounding as relieved as Marinette felt.

"Seriously. Is there someone else? Oh, Alya, that TV woman!"

"Yeah," Nino admitted sheepishly. "What about you, is there anyone else?"

"No," Marinette sighed, thinking of Chat Noir. "But there's the idea of someone else."

"I'm sure you'll find him, Marinette. You're pretty great," Nino encouraged. "I hope you find that happiness."

"You too," she said softly. It hit her. She was free to pursue Chat Noir and Chat Noir didn't want to meet her.


	9. Chapter 9

_Message from: ladybug32_

 _Subject: Fashion House_

 _My fashion house is closing this week. Did I ever tell you I worked in a fashion house? It was lovely. Not as large as most, but special to me all the same. The woman who helped me get into fashion school owned it. Until she went out of town on a family emergency, left me in charge, and everything fell apart. Her dearly departed mother started the business and it killed my friend to let it go. I haven't seen her in days. I don't think she's leaving her apartment._

 _The few who remained loyal to our little brand were laid off. One is depending on her father for income. The other got a job an hour away. I'll miss them both more than I can say. We were like a family. I let everyone down. Even worse, I'm selling out. So I don't get blacklisted, I'm going to work for a company I don't respect. Just to keep food on the table and pay rent. Pathetic, right? I'm sorry, my emails normally aren't like this. A mopey ladybug is probably the last thing you want right now. But nothing can make this right and I just needed to tell_ someone.

Adrien's heart constricted in his chest. He did this. Him, his father, his company. Marinette's friends were gone. Her mentor was in isolation. She had to work for the people who destroyed everything she cared about. Never had he felt more guilty for his role in all this. Marinette was never in the wrong. It was all his father, and his father had told him what he needed to hear to feel less horrible about doing it. Marinette was just as much a victim in this as the other employees of Masson.

He sent back a quick message but still felt like the biggest jerk in existence _. I'm sorry. I don't know what to say._ _Truly I don't. And anything I do say_ _will sound trite. I hope you feel_ _better._ And he did. He had to do something to help her out. But what?

After closing his computer, he left the bedroom and ran into Chloe. "Oh goody, I'm glad I found you, Adrikins!" she trilled. "It's time to go to that exclusive club opening!"

"I'm really not in the mood for—"

"Don't be such a spoilsport," Chloe pouted. "Only the best of the best will be there. It'll be great!"

Sighing, Adrien let her pull him along, always doing what she wanted to do. Why hadn't he met someone like Marinette earlier, before this whole fiasco. Instead he was stuck with Chloe.

They met the elevator operator and his father's assistant, Nathalie. The elevator went down two floors before getting stuck.

Chloe immediately began to panic. "I can't _die_ in here!"

"We're not going to die," the stoic elevator operator, Ivan, said. "Maybe we just need to push more buttons. Or jump at the same time."

The residents of the elevator tried both but nothing worked.

"Let me call someone," Adrien suggested. He dialed building maintenance. "This is Adrien Agreste. Who is this? Hi, Max. We're stuck on the sixth floor. There are four of us—"

Chloe grabbed the phone away and began shouting into it. "—and if you don't get your butt up here _right now_ to get us out, my daddy the mayor will fire you!" She looked around angrily. "He hung up."

Thirty minutes later, everyone was sitting on the floor in a different corner of the elevator. Chloe was painting her nails. Nathalie spoke up.

"If I ever get out of here, I'm speaking to my mother again. It's been so long."

"If I ever get out of here…" Ivan pondered. "I'm marrying Mylene. I love her. I should marry her. I don't know what's been stopping me." He took out his wallet and showed a picture of his girlfriend to Adrien, who was shocked because he knew that woman. She worked with Marinette. Well, used to work with Marinette.

"If I ever get out of here, I'm having my eyes lasered," Chloe said disdainfully.

Adrien thought about it. "If I ever get out of here—"

He's distracted by the sound of Chloe digging through her purse. "Where are my tic tacs?" She looked at Adrien. "What?"

Finally, the elevator door is pried open.

Adrien was back at his father's mansion when he typed his next message to Marinette.

 _I came home tonight and got into the elevator to leave my apartment. An hour later, I got out of the elevator and Plagg and I moved out. Suddenly everything had become clear. It's a long story. Full of the personal details we avoid so carefully..._

He fell asleep on the couch of his childhood bedroom. When he woke up, there was a message from Marinette.

 _I wonder whether change isn't a kind of infection. You start with one thing—something you never ever thought would change and it does—and the next thing you know even your bed is in a different place. When you and I first met, I knew everything about myself—what I would be doing for the rest of my life and even the person I would be doing it with. Now I know nothing._

A lot of that was his fault, he supposed. Marinette had nothing now. He'd seen her in the halls of Agreste, like a ghost. Producing good work, but quietly miserable, not connecting with people in the way he knew from their emails that she needed to be happy. She'd also been sniffling and sneezing a lot the past few days. He decided to go pay her a visit and see if there was anything he could do to make her feel better.

He stops by her apartment, having gotten the address from his father's employee files, and knocks on the door. She answers it blearily, in a fuzzy pink robe half off her shoulders and fluffy pink slippers. He peeks inside and sees an abundance of pink on the walls. Well, he picked the right color of flower.

"I saw you were sick and brought these for you," he said unnecessarily.

She looked at him in surprise. "How did you know I like pink?"

"Lucky guess," he said wryly. It was in one of the first emails she had written, talking about how she felt like she lived in a pack of bubblegum sometimes but she loved it.

"What are you doing here?' she demanded with a sniff. She really did look terrible, poor thing. Nose redder than a cranberry and circles under her eyes so dark she almost could have been a raccoon. "You put me out of business. Did you come here to gloat?"

"No," Adrien insisted.

"Everyone's trying to be nice to me, now that Nino and I broke up and I had to switch jobs. Even your girlfriend—"

"Ex-girlfriend."

"Oh, you broke up? You were so perfect for each other," Marinette said snidely before clapping hand over her mouth. "I don't mean to say things like that. No matter what you have done to me, there is no excuse for my saying anything like that. But every time I see you—"

Adrien sighed. "Things like that seem to just fly out of your mouth."

"Yes, I'm sorry. Thanks for coming. Goodbye."

"Why don't I put these in water first?" he suggested.

With a heavy sniff, Marinette pointed him toward the kitchen where a vase was. He went right ahead and began making her tea and she stared after him in shock.

"You're sick. Sit down," he commanded gently and Marinette was surprised enough to heed his orders.

After a moment of silence Marinette asked, "When did you break up?"

"Oh, a couple weeks ago," Adrien replied as he continues making tea.

Marinette began a monologue she can only attribute to too much cold medicine. "Everyone is breaking up. You. Me. This other person I know broke up with someone in an elevator. I think it was in an elevator. Or just outside it. Or after it. It got stuck. I think. And suddenly everything became clear. When I saw you, at the coffee place, I was waiting for him and I was—"

"Charming."

"I was NOT charming," Marinette said, remembering her behavior in disgust.

"You looked charming," Adrien said simply. The tea kettle whistles and he offers her some.

"I was upset and I was horrible," Marinette said miserably.

"Honey?" Adrien asked, and upon seeing her nod, added a few spoonfuls. " _I_ was horrible."

"True," Marinette muses. "But _I_ have no excuse."

Adrien grins. "Whereas I am a horrible person and have no choice but to be horrible, is that what you're saying?"

"No I am not saying that, because I'm done saying horrible things, even to you."

"You did it again."

Marinette clapped a hand over her mouth again and Adrien shrugged. "I put you out of business. Basically blackmailed you, isn't that what you said? You're entitled to hate me."

"I don't hate you."

"But you'll never forgive me," Adrien said sadly. "It wasn't personal—"

"—it was business," Marinette finished dryly. "I'm so sick of that. All it means was that it wasn't personal to you, but it's personal to me, it's personal to a lot of people. What's wrong with personal anyway?"

"Nothing," Adrien said. If he'd been personal with Ladybug from the beginning, none of this ever would have happened.

"I mean," Marinette continued. "Whatever else anything is, it ought to begin by being personal."

Hope niggled in his chest. Was she talking about them? Ladybug and Chat Noir? Dare he hope she cared about him still? Marinette picked up the flowers and brought them close to her bed.

"My head's starting to get funny," she announced. "I have to get back to bed."

Adrien followed her across the room and watched as she tucked herself in. "Why did you stop by again? I forget."

"I wanted to be your friend," he said simply.

"Oh."

Adrien debated a moment before opening his mouth again. "I knew it wasn't possible. What can I say? Sometimes a person just wants the impossible. Could I ask you something?"

"What?"

"What happened with that guy at the café?" He held his breath, hoping for the best.

"Nothing," Marinette sighed and buried her head in a pillow.

"But you're crazy about him!" He pushed his luck. Might he get the information he needed? To fight for her?

"Yes I am," she said loudly.

"Then why don't you run away with him? What are you waiting for?"

A long pause. "I don't actually know him," Marinette said from under her pillow.

"Really?" He asked with a smirk she couldn't see.

"We only know each other—oh, you're not going to believe this—"

"Let me guess," he said sarcastically. "Through the internet."

"Yes."

"You've got mail," he said slyly.

"Yes!"

Adrien sat on the edge of the bed, scooting closer. "I'm happy for him. Although—could I make a little suggestion? I think you should meet him. No. I take it back. Why meet the guy you're crazy about?"

Marinette shot him a look. "I hardly think I need advice from someone who—"

Adrien clapped a hand over her mouth. "I concede I bring out the worst in you, but let me help you not to say something you'll just torture yourself about for years to come."

She starts to smile so he removes his hand. "I hope you're better soon. It would be a shame to miss Paris in the spring."

"Thank you for the flowers," Marinette says as he starts toward the door.

He gives her a tender smile. "Take care, Princess."

She gave a start at the nickname but sighed and snuggled deeper into her pillows. " I will. Goodbye."

"Goodbye." Adrien gently shut the door behind him and practically punched the air with success. A civil conversation with his Lady, in person. He was partway there already.


	10. Chapter 10

_Message from: ladybug32_

 _Subject: …_

 _I've been thinking about this and I think we should meet._

Adrien stared at the words on his screen in horror as Plagg jumped into his lap, demanding attention. Meet? No way. They couldn't meet now that Marinette hated him. Whenever she saw him in the hallway at work she'd duck into an empty room or even turn right around. Well…there was one incident, right after the flowers.

Marinette had been bending over her work when Adrien walked in. He noticed the designs she was working on and his heart skipped a beat. These were definitely inspired by cats. The fluidity of the fabric, the colors ranging from muted orange to black. Were these…inspired by Chat Noir? Was Marinette Dupain-Cheng designing something because of _him?_

"Those look amazing, Marinette!"

Without looking up, Marinette shrugged it off. "Oh thanks! It was something I was working on for the fall line at Masson and I figured why let them go to waste? I—" She finally looked up and turned a dull red. "Oh. It's you."

Adrien waved sheepishly and was surprised when Marinette smiled at him. "You want to see the rest of what I'm working on?"

He eagerly sat down and began poring through her sketchbook. "Wow, these are going to knock everyone else's out of the water."

"You really think so?"

"Oh yeah," Adrien said confidently. "You're the most promising new designer in all of Paris."

Instead of smiling at the compliment, Marinette seemed to deflate. "And that's exactly what landed me here," she said bitterly. She hastily packed up her stuff. "I knew I should have stayed in my office, I just miss having people around. I have to go."

"Marinette, wait," Adrien tried to protest. He wanted to apologize. He wanted to comfort her. He wanted to do anything than stand there helplessly as she walked away from him. She had been almost friendly! Then she remembered how much misery he had personally caused her and left.

She'd been avoiding him ever since. He nervously rubbed the back of his neck before typing a new message to Ladybug. _We should meet. And we will meet. But I'm in the middle of a project that needs—_ what's the word, what's the word— _tweaking._

Marinette groaned, thinking about the newest message from Chat Noir again. He still didn't want to meet her. It seemed so much like an excuse but…what if he really was in the middle of a project? She had no idea what he did for work, as part of the rules.

Sighing, she tried to warm her hands on her cup of hot chocolate. It had been unusually cold for a spring day and she'd stopped by her parents' bakery for some croissants. Her mother had also offered her hot chocolate, seeming to sense her daughter's distress, and how could Marinette refuse?

"I'll have two croissants and some macarons, please," a horribly familiar voice chirped from behind her. Oh no. Not him. Not here, where she'd come for peace from work.

"Hey Marinette, mind if I sit here?" She looked up into the earnest green eyes of Adrien Agreste.

Yes, she did. "Go ahead," she sighed in defeat. "You will anyway."

He frowned at that comment but sat anyway, looking around in delight. "I've always loved this bakery. I used to sneak her for pastries when I was a kid. My house was practically across the street so I'd ditch my bodyguard to get cookies whenever I could."

Marinette was surprised he was willing to share so much personal information. And that he liked her parents' food. "Really?"

"Mmhmm. Best pastries in Paris!" That was truly a compliment. Adrien could afford to go anywhere and he preferred here?

"I think so too. There's a café across from—my old work—" Marinette found she couldn't even say the name without feeling guilty. Tikki still wasn't answering her calls. "I went there exactly once because it was awful. Well, compared to here. I guess being the daughter of two bakers makes you picky."

Adrien saw her retreating into the shell of defensive sadness she did whenever thinking about Masson and had to put a stop to it. He'd come here for a reason, not to get brushed off again. "So, anything new with that guy you're crazy about?"

Marinette looked at him strangely. "Actually yes. Seeing how my usual confidants aren't here and you're the only other person who knows…I could use some help deciphering a message I got this morning."

This was going even better than Adrien could have hoped. "At your service, milady. What did it say?"

Marinette told him and he pretended to be disgusted. "Tweaking?"

"That's what he said," she sighed.

"He's probably married," Adrien said.

Her eyebrows rose in shock. "That's a terrible thing to say. It's not possible."

"Have you asked him if he's married?" he pushed. "Have you said 'are you married?'"

"No." Marinette bit her lip. This probably should have occurred to her a long time ago. That could explain why he didn't want to meet her. It would be just her luck to fall in love with a married man.

Adrien shrugged and turned the conversation to a fencing tournament incident that happened when he was thirteen. It was diverting and Marinette was surprised to find she enjoyed the way he told stories. It reminded her almost of Chat Noir.

That night, Marinette's message _I know it's probably a little late to be asking this, but are you married?_ received the strangest response.

 _Message from: chatnoirxx_

 _Re: Married_

 _Am I married? What kind of a question is that? How can you ask me that? Don't you know me at all? Oh wait, I get it. Your friends are telling you the reason we haven't met is that I'm married. Am I right?_

She'd have to talk to Adrien about it tomorrow.

"So he didn't answer," Adrien mused as they ate at the Chinese restaurant across the street on their lunch break.

"He did too. He nailed me. He knew exactly what I was up to, which is just like him," Marinette said begrudgingly.

"But he didn't answer, did he?"

"No."

A playful smile played on Adrien's lips and he took another bite, speaking with his mouth full. "Maybe he's fat."

"I don't care about that," Marinette insisted. Her father was a big man and he and her mother were perfectly happy.

His smile turned mischievous. "You don't care that he might be one of those guys who's so fat he has to be removed from his house by a crane?"

Marinette rolled her eyes and playfully punched his shoulder. "That's very unlikely."

"Why else do you think he's putting off meeting you? Although…maybe that's not it. Maybe…"

"What?"

Adrien chuckled. "Maybe he's waiting to be paroled."

Marinette snorted, remembering. "Oh, you won't believe this, there was a moment when Nathanael thought he might be Hawk Moth, which is completely ridiculous…"

"What's his handle?"

Marinette shook her head. No way. That was just asking for trouble.

"Come on," Adrien wheedled. "I'm not going to write him. Is that what you think?"

With a sigh of defeat, Marinette conceded. "Chatnoirxx."

"Chat Noir, huh? Maybe he's one of those old, lonely guys who has 32 cats to keep him company. Or he's like that wacko who called himself Mr. Pigeon that got hospitalized a few years ago and he's trying to take over the world with cats. Or maybe he dresses up like a cat on the weekends to go to parties," Adrien suggested.

Marinette rolled her eyes. "Oh please. He has one cat. One."

"Maybe that's what he told you to keep you from knowing his true identity as a crazy cat lady," Adrien smirked.

Adrien was not letting this go. Maybe she never should have told him, but Mylene was touring with her father and Nathanael was too far away. Plus he was surprisingly easy to talk to. He continued rattling off ideas for Chat Noir's username as they walked through the hallways of Agreste.

"He's a cat burglar. He dresses up in a cat suit and robs places."

"Oh! His cat must be black!" The idea springs to Marinette's head. "Though that's not very original." She missed the offended look on Adrien's face as she stopped to admire some fabric swatches another designer was carrying. Maybe working here wasn't so terrible after all.

"Anyway, this is my office. Thanks for walking me here from the elevator. We keep bumping into each other."

"Want to bump into me again on Saturday at the Trocadero? Around lunchtime?" Adrien asked hopefully.

She paused and turned to look at him. He was smiling at her in a way that made her insides melt a little. "S-sure."


	11. Chapter 11

_Message from: chatnoirxx_

 _Re: Meeting_

 _How about meeting Saturday? 4 PM. There's a bench near the north side of the Eiffel Tower. You'll find me waiting._

Marinette's heart pounded in her chest. Saturday. After all this time, they were finally going to meet! She tried calling Mylene but got her voicemail, leaving a detailed message. She got Nathanael's voicemail too. Oh well. She could talk about it with Adrien when they met for lunch. He was so much nicer than she had expected, given what he'd said to her during the battle for Masson. Maybe he'd been just as stressed as she had been.

Truthfully, he was nice, funny, and extremely handsome. He'd been so kind to her during her time at Agreste and made her see that working there wasn't the end of the world. Sure, she didn't have that tight-knit way of things she did at Masson, but she had Adrien. He was a good friend.

When they met at the sandwich shop he greeted her with bright eyes and an even brighter smile. "It's good to see you."

She returned the smile almost shyly. "It's good to see you too."

After chatting about pleasantries for a few minutes Marinette got to the heart of the matter. "I'm meeting Chat Noir today."

"Today? Whoa."

Marinette nodded in the affirmative. "I know. Near the Eiffel Tower."

"Isn't that amazing? Maybe I've seen him and don't even know it," Adrien mused.

Once lunch was finished, they strolled together through the streets of Paris, continuing their conversation about Chat Noir. "He could be the Zipper Man," Adrien said.

"Who's that?"

"This guy near Notre Dame who repairs zippers. You'll never have to buy new luggage." He leaned closer to her with a silly look on his face to emphasize his point. Marinette laughed and pushed him back by the nose with a finger.

"Stop teasing."

Adrien shrugged. "Timing is everything. He waited until you were primed. Until you knew there was no other man you could ever love."

Marinette's heart constricted. She did love Chat Noir. All of this made her realize that she needed him in her life. He meant so much to her. She couldn't talk like that with anyone else. "Yes."

"Sometimes I wonder…" Adrien trailed off.

"What?"

They stopped walking and looked at each other as Adrien continued. "If I hadn't been Agreste and you hadn't been Masson and we'd just met—"

Marinette didn't like where this was going. "Don't." Adrien was too good of a friend to lose. She _needed_ a friend at Agreste and he was the only one she had.

Adrien continued anyway, heartwrenchingly serious. "I would have asked for your phone number and I wouldn't have been able to wait 24 hours before calling and asking, 'How about coffee, drinks, dinner, a movie, for as long as we both shall live?'"

He looked at her with his heart in his eyes and Marinette couldn't take it. "Adrien…"

"And then we never would have been at war," Adrien said softly.

"No."

"The only fight we'd ever have is what video to rent on Saturday night," he continued.

"Who fights about that?" Marinette demanded. This had spiraled out of her control too fast. Adrien was just a friend, a very good friend, but still a friend. She was in love with Chat Noir. And even though he was such a good friend, Adrien was still the one who separated her work family for selfish reasons.

"Some people. Not us."

"We would never."

Adrien speaks up wistfully after a long pause. "If only…"

"Please, I have to go," Marinette says but her feet are rooted to the spot. Why couldn't she just walk away? What did she owe Adrien Agreste? Nothing!

"Let me ask you something? How come you'll forgive him for standing you up and you won't forgive me for a little tiny thing like putting you out of business?" He was rolling on the balls of his feet, looking so repentant and so adorable that Marinette had to shake her head to clear her thoughts.

"Oh how I wish you would," he said earnestly.

Marinette gave him a tortured glance before looking away. "I really do have to go." Her meeting with Chat Noir was in an hour and a half and she needed to be ready.

"You don't want to be late," Adrien said sadly. He put his hands in his pockets and walked away without another glance in her direction.

She stared after him a moment in agony before walking in the other direction. Adrien had offered himself to her, laid his heart bare, and she rejected him. How could she do that, even to someone who blacklisted her? The wounded puppy look on his face as he walked away tormented her all the way home. No matter. She had to look nice for Chat Noir. Too bad the ladybug dress was gone forever. What to wear?


	12. Chapter 12

Adrien could have kicked himself. Of course Marinette rejected him! He'd ruined her life and the lives of people she cared about. He wavered, wanting to back out more than anything, but he wouldn't stand her up again. Kim was right, he was better than that. He was trying to fully prepare himself for the final rejection. He could avoid her in the hallways at work, right? Their offices were on different floors. It wouldn't be impossible.

The thought of losing communication not only with Marinette but also with Ladybug physically pained him, but what could he do? He'd come too far to back out now.

Plagg meowed at him and he had an idea. Maybe Plagg could help him seal the deal? He'd gotten a leash for him as a sort of joke forever ago because Plagg was so lazy but maybe this time he might cooperate…for a bit of camembert. Not enough to warrant going to the vet though. Just a take.

"Hey buddy," Adrien cooed. "You want some of this?" He held up a small piece of the smelly cheese and Plagg instantly perked up, meowing and reaching out to bat at the treat.

"You'll get it," he promised. "But first I need you to wear this." Plagg eyed the leash dolefully but went into the harness without complaint. Good kitty.

When he got to the Eiffel Tower, there were surprisingly few tourists. Good. That way he might actually be able to see Marinette coming before she saw him. That was essential to getting the plan to work. Plagg was purring in his lap and he absentmindedly stroked his pet while keeping an eye out for the love of his life.

She appeared at the edge of his vision, looking around nervously. She was beautiful, wearing a red dress that flared out at the waist and a black leather jacket, loose curls framing her face.

"This is it, buddy," Adrien encouraged Plagg. He waved the cheese in front of the cat's nose and prayed he made a good toss. He was counting on a lot of variables here: actually throwing the cheese in the right place, Marinette's good heart prompting her to go over to the cat… _Please work,_ he prayed.

He threw the cheese in a high arc and Plagg's whiskers twitched. He smelled it already. Like a streak of black lightning he was off to claim his prize. Right in front of Marinette, who looked very confused as to why there was a cat on a leash in front of a famous Parisian landmark. She bent down and scooped him into her arms, whispering into his little ears and planting a kiss on his furry head.

Adrien nearly melted right there. The girl of his dreams was being sweet to his cat. He had to focus. Stick to the plan. "Plagg! Plagg!" he called, holding out another tiny morsel of camembert.

Even from that distance, Plagg could smell it and squirmed his way out of Adrien's arms. Marinette's mouth gaped open. She had heard him. She knew. She approached him slowly, a hand over her mouth as tears coursed down her face. Adrien met her in the middle and wrapped her in his arms.

"Don't cry, Ladybug, don't cry."

She looked up at him, those adorable freckles dusting her nose, and gave a watery smile. "I wanted it to be you. I wanted it to be you so badly."

He grinned, so relieved he wanted to collapse right there, and he leaned down to kiss her. Marinette's arms tightened around him as they kissed, softly and sweetly, with Plagg wrapping himself around their ankles. Adrien couldn't believe this was real. Real life was so much better than the internet.

 **Author's Note: That's all folks! Hit me up if you liked it or if you'd be interested in beta reading the original fic I'm working on. It's about a female serial killer on a mission to protect children who is trying to keep her crimes from coming to light.**


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